Bonae Memoriae
by thoughtless dreamer
Summary: Dedicated to Lady Eoin: Demyx wants Ienzo to have a happier birthday memory. Simply Zemyx fluffage, along with hints of AkuRoku! A birthday drabble for my own darling Zexy's birthday!


**Disclaimer**: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, for it belongs to the incredibly talented Tetsuya Nomura!

Jessie: Guess whose birthday it is todaaay!

Joh: …Go fish?

Jessie: It is my darling _Zexy's!_

Joh: Awww!

Jessie: Yeah, today's her birthday! It kinda fell on an annoying day, though, seeing as we were stuck in a recording studio for chorus… but in any case, when I asked what she wanted, she said nothing. So I made her a card and brownies, and when I gave them to her, I asked again. And got the same answer. So on our break, I was struck with the genius to _write_ something in honor of the occasion—and here's the result. Enjoy, Zexy—this is all for you!

_Dedicated_: To the lovely _Lady Eoin_--or Zexy for me! You're a wonderful person, and don't let anyone convince you otherwise!

**Warning**: Fluffy **yaoi**, but seriously—what else is new?

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The night was relatively quiet in the Castle That Never Was, everyone having returned upon completing their missions or assignments for the day. Usually one could expect at least a little bit of trouble being stirred by the mischievous trio –composed by none other than Axel, Roxas and Demyx– but Axel and Roxas had disappeared hours ago into the Key of Destiny's room.

And by now, all the neophytes inhabiting the Castle had since long ago learned to avoid approaching Numbers VIII and XIII's bedrooms at all costs when they had been nowhere to be seen for so long. That point had only been reiterated two weeks prior, when an unfortunate, exhausted Melodious Nocturne had mistakenly entered one door prior to his room.

Demyx and Roxas _still_ couldn't look each other in the eye without flushing.

In any case, Zexion had made up his mind that even relative quiet was much too unusual in the Castle—_especially_ ever since Number Nine had joined the Organization. It seemed as though the blonde sitarist had made it his business to ensure that he was always the source of some sort of noise; be it singing, chattering or strumming a melody on his sitar (he was actually rather skilled in Zexion's opinion—of course, the bluenette would _never_ say it out loud).

However, as much as he might not like it, Zexion had become accustomed to Dem… Number IX's vivacious antics, as they brought an almost-sense of life to the Castle, even if it was just a shadow of liveliness.

And again, the musician had unintentionally (although Zexion was beginning to form some doubts as to just how unintentional it was) changed another aspect of the Schemer's life—causing him to doubt all that he had once held be true. Honestly; how could anyone—even a Nobody—possibly be so naturally _alive_ and _emotional_ without having a heart?

Absentmindedly, Zexion lifted a finger to rub his nose gently as he continued to read--before freezing; finger still at the tip of his nose.

Something smelled really, _really_ good. It was quite sweet, whatever it was.

(And although it might not be widely known, the Cloaked Schemer did, in fact, have something of a sweet tooth.)

With one last, reluctant glance towards the page he was on in his book (he'd _just_ gotten to a great part) he set his book on his chair –careful not to loose his page– before quietly slipping out of his room. Upon closing the door behind him, he tilted his head up slightly, sniffing the air before decidedly opening a dark portal into what had been deemed the recreation room by Numbers VIII through XII.

"Why, if it isn't our elusive Number VI," Marluxia drawled, turning his attention from the game of cards that he, Larxene and Luxord were playing.

"Out and about for a change, are we?" Luxord smiled, organizing his hand without even looking down. Larxene was too occupied glowering at her cards to acknowledge the newcomer.

"Who's in the kitchen?" Zexion asked nonchalantly, blatantly ignoring the teasing comments.

Instead of receiving an answer, however, Zexion was slightly miffed at the sudden smirks on everyone's faces in response to his inquiry.

"Oh dear…I'm _terribly_ sorry, _Zexy_, but I _do_ believe we're on rather strict orders from a _superior_ member not to share that information with you," Marluxia apologized-- though a smirk tugging the corners of his lips upwards said otherwise.

With a slight scowl, Zexion stalked off towards the kitchen, foregoing all further attempts to gain the wanted information from the snickering neophytes.

He took one last, deep sniff outside the doors to the kitchen; now that he was so close to the source, he could just barely catch a whiff of something other than baking goods—something slightly more salty. At last, Zexion opened the door, but he quickly stopped short at the sight that he now beheld.

He'd…never quite thought it possible for the walls and floors of the Castle to get any whiter. Apparently, he'd been wrong.

Zexion blinked in a rare display of open bewilderment as he took in the flour-coated kitchen, the scene topped off by none other than a flour-coated--

"Number IX?" Zexion began cautiously, "what exactly…are you doing?"

Demyx gave a sudden start from where he stood by the far kitchen counter before spinning around in surprise so that he was facing his unexpected company—blue eyes so wide it was comical. But when he saw who it was, however, all tension in his face melted away immediately, only to be replaced by a sheepish grin.

"Hiya, Zexy," he laughed nervously, inching over to his right in a poor attempt to inconspicuously hide something behind him.

"Number IX… what are you doing?" Zexion reiterated, schooling his features back into their usual, collected expression.

"I was, uh, well…" Demyx stuttered out fretfully, before lowering his head in a feeble effort to hide his suddenly flushed cheeks, muttering something that sounded suspiciously along the lines of "you weren't supposed to show up yet…"

"You were…?" Zexion pressed—unable to stop himself from taking yet another deep sniff in the room where the delicious, wafting aroma was strongest.

"I…it's…it's your…" Demyx tried again, but trailed off meekly, staring helplessly at his superior.

At this point, the Cloaked Schemer was finding Demyx's awkwardness to be terribly amusing, and was struggling to bite back a reluctant smile. But finally, a tiny smile worked its way onto his lips as he regarded the dumbstruck Nobody.

"I… do believe you deserve more credit than what the others give you, Demyx. I can't believe that you remembered what I'd told you… well, it has to be at least six months ago now, right?" Zexion couldn't help but chuckle.

"Well, I couldn't very well let you go through life without the memory of at least _one_ birthday cake, now, could I? I _still_ can't believe that you started your apprenticeship under Ansem when you were only four years old. Seriously--all work and no play couldn't have _possibly_ been healthy!" Demyx retorted playfully; motioning the bluenette over from where he stood across the room and stepping aside to reveal a meticulously decorated cake inscribed with the words _Happy Birthday Ienzo_.

Zexion felt a tightening in his chest that he _knew_ he shouldn't have (his being a Nobody and all), but ignored it in favor of rewarding the hopeful-looking sitarist with a rare, genuine smile and a hesitant brush of his lips against Demyx's cheek.

"Thank you, Demyx."

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Jessie: So I hoped that everyone enjoyed this! But I've gotta run for now!

Joh: Yeah; she's gotta go post this now, before the night's over!

Jessie: Later, lovelies! And--just once more, I promise!--a happy, happy, _HAPPY_ birthday to you, Zexy!

_**Please Review**_


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